


Morning

by Fedora Of Adorableness (TheTimelessChild0)



Category: White Collar
Genre: Daydreaming, Introspection, Pre-Canon, Young Neal Caffrey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:12:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25989517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/Fedora%20Of%20Adorableness
Summary: It was in the morning, that the memories awakened.
Relationships: Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Kudos: 12





	Morning

He stood by the window, looking out. He observed the cars, people entering them to get to work. A man approached a tree with a hedge trimmer. It was a pity, because the leaves had only been green for a week. It was a quiet city. Or, so he had heard. It was why he came here. Less noise equalled less people. Less people who would look at him, notice that he didn’t belong. Sure, his smile was charming enough. It had gotten him out of a tight spot several times. But that was New York. This was Konstanz. Germany. The people here were a great deal more dull, more stuck in their ways. More likely to prefer less emotion, not more. He heard a police car in the distance. He’d never liked the way the siren was different. He liked the one from back home. The one in Missouri and the one in New York sounded almost the same. He wasn’t sure he could remember that _for certain_ , though. A lot of things from back then had been stowed away, into the depths of his mind. To be useful at a later time, when the memories didn’t hurt anymore. He wasn’t sure when that would be. 

He turned on the news. He didn’t understand what they were saying, but would recognize his name, no matter what language it was pronounced. It wasn’t his real name. No one knew that. He had several. There was the one he was born with. The one he grew up with. And the one that made him feel whole again, the one that he chose himself. He didn’t choose this life. He could’ve been an accountant. Or a historian. Or maybe a painter, or a writer. Then, she told him. She told him who he was. Who his father was, that his father wasn’t the blue in his eyes, but the black in his heart. He had run. Run from his father, so that when he got free, he would not find his family again. He had lost that privilege when he changed. When he lied to him. 

_See you soon, buddy_. That’s what he said. He didn’t see him soon. He hadn’t seen him in 20 years. Even if he knocked on the door with a box of swiss chocolate, he wouldn’t let him in. He’d still have deceived him. What kind of a person lies to a child? They trust blindly. That ship had sailed. 

He didn’t trust anyone. Not Adler, not Mozzie, not Alex...not even Kate. A girl who could bounce from working underneath a hedge fund manager, to petty larceny, was not a girl you could trust. Love, yes. But never trust. It was why he hadn’t been looking for her. She’d decided they needed space, and frankly, so did he. 

He had just gotten back from Great Britain. Buckingham Palace. The heist went awry, due to circumstances out of his control. Okay, maybe a little within his control. But he was only human. Plan B involved stealing the Crown Jewels. But Keller had insisted upon a gun. He hated guns. His father had used one. It was why he’d gone away. 

He missed him. He bit into his Semmeln bun, wondering what kind of bagel _he_ was eating right now. Then he chuckled, remembering the time zones. _He_ was probably still in bed. 

He was a cop. Of sorts. He didn’t ordinarily like cops. According to his principle, cops were corrupt. And if they weren’t, they became corrupt later. It was the way the system worked. It had a foundation that could carry them forward, carry justice forward. But it had cracks. And every now and then people fell through. People like his father. And no one had seen it coming. They just walked away from the hand, grasping at the rim of the gorge, clamouring to get back up. 

It didn’t matter. _He_ was a nice man. He’d reassured him...even though he knew he looked far too young to have bonds, let alone the kind that had been counterfeited. Hah. He’d proven him wrong. He wished he had been there, when the man discovered the truth. Seen the look in his eyes. Was he exasperated? Ashamed? Proud of him? Impressed? Concerned? 

He hoped the man was concerned, because he was scared. Scared of being arrested. Scared of where they would take him, and for how long. He wasn’t scared of being caught by _him_ . If it happened it would be his fault. But, if he could blame it on a _trap_ , that would be okay. He wasn’t free. Not really. If the man was as smart as he thought...he could probably find Kate. Put her in the trap. And he’d walk right into it. Peter would be there. Neal would raise his hands up in the air. They’d shake hands. He would look into his eyes and see what he thought of him. And he would cool his sweaty, feverish hands in the firm, unyielding metal of the handcuffs. Special Agent Peter Burke’s handcuffs. 

He smiled. No one could stop him from dreaming. He was all alone. In the empty apartment. Free. 


End file.
